QUEER HISTORY

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

There is no doubt in my mind that Danny Noriega, more talented than several of the other contestants on this year's American Idol and with more personality and stage presence than almost all of the other contestants, was voted off the show because of homophobia.

But it was a special brand of homophobia: Sissyphobia, a very political subset of homophobia. What is it in the sissy that drives such passionate anger, disdain but also such passionate admiration? Noriega, unlike the others thus far voted off AI, has generated a hue and cry having quickly built a passionate but too small (voter wise) fan base. But why so passionate and outspoken? Obviously, it's the attitude, that uniquely sissy attitude--a hybrid of masculine arrogance and bravado and feminine wit and style. It's an attitude that generates more controversy and discussion than even transgender issues.

Why are so many Americans contemptuous and disdainful of sassy sissies? Personally, I believe this discomfort and disapproval is founded in cowardice.

Sissy behavior may be the most politically bold statement in this politically castrated society so driven by fear, conformity and apathy. Think about it. Those are three words that are meaningless to the sissy and yet very much define and describe our current political environment.

A straight man who is one of my best friends and a truly great human being has become a fan of American Idol thanks to his 15-year-old son and 13-year-old daughter. The day after Noriega's hysterically tearful departure, my straight friend, struggling and uncomfortable, felt the need to discuss Noriega.

As two mature adult males, we rarely discuss AI, but in this case, my friend was seeking a sort of absolution for his dislike of flamboyant Noriega. "C'mon, Richard," he insisted, "You know I'm not homophobic, not even remotely, but you have to admit that Danny Noriega was just to damned effeminate. He was annoying and needed to go away."

While I didn't agree, I did know from day one that Danny Noriega would be among the first to go regardless of his voice.

As an openly gay man who has been out and assertively gay for almost twenty years now, it has taken me almost as many years to mostly overcome my own discomfort with sissies. Over the past year, I've had to parse out the fact that Chris Crocker is an annoying asshole, sissy or not--and that's it is not homophobic to dislike him. At first, I was afraid that my uber negative reaction to Crocker was the result of the sissyphobia sub brand of the homophobia masterbrand.

But after quite a bit of self-examination and Crocker's ongoing nonsense, I'm reasonably comfortable that Chris Crocker turns my stomach because he's a creepy jerk; and it's OK to dislike him on that basis alone.

But what is it about "too effeminate" that so profoundly confuses and disturbs us?

My aforementioned straight friend is indeed less homophobic than half the queers I know, but Noriega was just too much for him. Why was that? No, it's not because he's a hypocrite. I know that he is not. It runs deeper, much much deeper.

My latest theory on the sissy issue is that the sissy behavior pattern is an act of fierce (as in Christian Siriano fierce) political rebellion. Sissiness shines an unforgiving spotlight on the darkest days and ugliest manifestations of homophobia. It may be that sissies are the most political and activist-oriented queers among us, more so than even the furious dudes of the early AIDS days and bloodied Pride marchers of Eastern Europe.

Does Danny Noriega reach deep inside of my straight friend and remind him of all that is wrong with America? The virulent bigotry, the gay murders, the denial of civil rights to queer Americans and the fact that almost none of us--gay or straight--are doing a fucking thing about it? With every turn and flip of Danny Noriega's sassy head, are we slapped across the face by our own apathy and inaction?

A twenty-something reader of this blog recently expressed surprise over a line in one of my essays in which I referenced a time in my life when gay bars were illegal in New York City. He had forgotten how recently we were officially considered to be outlaws, and not in a glamorized Wild West kind of way.

We are less than a generation away from a time when homosexuality was criminalized and we were an officially marginalized community, always just one step ahead of the law.

It took a very long time for our society to recognize the long term consequences of slavery; it took less time to recognize the consequences of the Holocaust on survivors and then children of survivors. But the gay community has danced and snorted its way past our dark heritage as if it never happened. But this is a huge and dangerous mistake. So many of our problems as a community--and there are too many--stem from our criminalized recent past--and when we pretend it never happened we deny ourselves a healthy and robust future. And, yes, there also positive consequences. For example, the gay community's pervasive liberal views are obviously founded in a long history of an involuntary life outside of the law for no reason other than your natural sexual orientation. Older gay men and women were born into a criminal class, something younger gay men and women need to remember if queer culture is to truly advance and flourish. The queer culture we live in today is very much shaped by that fact.

Within the lifetime of the vast majority of American adults, queers were subject to arrest, imprisonment and even involuntary and invasive psychiatric interventions for public displays of affection, wearing women's clothing or makeup in public and even for making same-sex love in the privacy of their own homes.

Like other minorities, queers need to learn and learn fast that the struggles and suffering of the past are not an "us and them" generational dynamic; the past shapes who we are today, it shapes our culture and it most certainly shapes contemporary queer culture, for better or worse, and in many ways more for worse.

How much of Project Runway winner and "fierce" Christian Siriano's personality is shaped by a political and cultural legacy; how much of it is defined--whether he knows it or not--by a fierce political reaction to a not so distant past world of repression and oppression? How much of it is really who he is and what he would be in a world where being queer was as "normal" as being Republican? In a world where sexual orientation is as inconsequential as casual Fridays, would a Danny Noriega or a Christian Siriano be as "fierce" or as assertively effeminate?

Voted off AI, Noriega shrugged it off saying he was glad he had remained true to himself.

"I definitely was really, really different," he said. But the reason for his big difference is very, very political.

"You can't please everybody and I guess the majority of the voters just didn't like me. That's that. I can't change myself for anybody. It's so important to be yourself in this competition," he said.

I'm going to interpret "competition" to mean life in general.

And when Simon Cowell called Noriega's performance "grotesque", Cowell was making a powerful political statement of his own. The subtext was clear to me: It's OK to be gay on AI but please be discrete about it and please do not remind us of it.

The Associated Press reports that in four short weeks, the "grotesque" Danny Noriega built up one of the biggest early fan bases in the seven seasons of the show. Fans, who dubbed themselves, "Danimals," started a petition on the "American Idol" message boards in a bid to bring him back.

I'm suggesting that this passionate response to Noriega, both positive and negative, is telling us something very important about our democracy and the quest for a more tolerant and humane society. In an age devoid of political activism and crippled by political apathy, Danny Noriega and Christian Siriano keep the candle of hope and the light of democracy flaming.

Friday, 29 February 2008

When Ellen first came out I cried for days. It rocked my world. Over the past few years, Ellen has been oftentimes criticized by members of the gay community for not being gay enough on her national talk show, for not using the gay word frequently enough, for not talking enough about her personal gay life. Personally, I've found that criticism to be somewhere between ridiculous and disgusting. Ellen is out, proud and living her life as an influential celebrity who walks the walk and talks the talk. Today, Ellen made everyone who has ever criticized her credentials and every closeted celebrity look like tiny little gnats. And, yes, Anderson Cooper, I mean you.

Friday, 26 October 2007

From the mid 1970s until the late 1990s, the Times Square area hosted three completely illegal and outrageous gay whore houses: The Gaiety, Show Palace and Eros. Technically, of course, since whorehouses are illegal in New York City, these were fine theatrical establishments that provided the best in all male entertainment. Never mind that the lounges, hallways and backstage areas provided safe havens for quick assignations or negotiations that would lead to profitable full-length features in nearby hotels like the Paramount, Edison and Marriott.

Show Palace and Eros survived until the late 90s, The Gaiety hung on--thanks to the patronage of many influential and prominent Manhattanites--through March of 2005. But even with the patronage of icons of the New York performing arts world and several entertainment industry moguls, the Internet ultimately proved to be too fierce of a competitor and Denise, the very professional and always courteous Greek lady who owned this establishment, shuttered the doors, collected her Drachmas and retired to Lesbos (not actually Lesbos, but you get the idea) after 30 years of peddling boys to men.

The cover story that allowed the authorities to turn a blind eye to these whorehouses was simple. They were not whorehouses; they were burlesque houses where boys would strip, dance and display their merchandise. No liquor was served and the"theaters" fell under the protection of Off Off Broadway permissiveness. And within the jurisdiction of sketchy theatrical rules and regulations, erections and ejaculations were sometimes included.

The shows ranged from Broadway quality choreography to raunchy simulations of sexual prowess. But during "intermission" and between shows, the performers would retire to the lounge to mingle with audience members. Depending on the price, services were rendered in hallways, backstage, in local hotel rooms or at the residence of the more well-heeled patrons.

Each house also catered to very specific tastes and wallets. The Eros and the Show Palace were on low rent Eighth Avenue in the shadow of the main bus terminal. The Gaiety was only just around the corner from it's sleazier cousins , but the Gaiety was on Broadway. For better or worse, The Gaiety was part of the Great White Way.

At one point the Gaiety even achieved a bizarre degree of chic and became a regular haunt for Madonna--who eventually did much of the photography for her notorious SEX book (1992) at the Gaiety with many of the more popular Gaiety dancers.

Gaiety dancers were mostly very beautiful white boys, ranging from serious Midwestern white bread types to South American hunks with a very large contingent of French Canadian studs (the Brazil of the North.) These boys were right off the pages of fashion and muscle magazines.

Show Palace dancers were almost exclusively African-American tripods. Many were downright ugly but all of them had the most freakishly enormous penises imaginable. Thursday afternoons were a special treat. The dancers would compete to see who could jerk off on the audience first. The music would blare and the dancers would call on willing audience members to provide a helpful hand, finger or tongue. It was gross, disgusting, vile and stinky. A great time was always had by all. Men are pigs. Oink. Oink. Call me Porky.

Eros dancers were stereotypical El Barrio types. Unlike the Gaiety dancer who's primary prop was an erection, Eros dancers would perform theme shows incorporating props such as chains, ponchos, "Indian garb", chaps and whips. Some of them would even have little sets depicting some kind of scene like bullfights and prisons.

But I digress. This story is supposed to be about art and muses. My apologies.

Within this 20th Century Toulouse Lautrec gay world I met a prostitute who would become one of my favorite artists and good friends. Actually, it's unfair to call Jose-Luis Cortes a prostitute. He is a successful painter with a very dark muse. Jose-Luis's work hangs in New York's Museo el Bario, a prominent art museum in Puerto Rico and is shown in galleries in Manhattan, Tokyo and Vienna.

Jose-Luis paints within the framework of an odd lifestyle pattern. He would and still does perform intense gay S&M scenes for public audiences (Eros, gay clubs, private parties, etc.) that incorporate his art. At the end of each show he sells himself as a gay sex slave and disappears with his purchaser/master for at least three days and sometimes up to two weeks. Crack and coke play a large part in these experiences. He then emerges from these episodes and paints without interruption for several weeks. We (his friends) never expect him to return assuming this will be the time he will permanently disappear only to wash ashore dead on the banks of the East River. We make him promise to never do this again; he promises he won't. The false promises and pretense are, I suppose, part of the scene and the muse.

At one point he was invited to stage a series of such S&M sex shows in a Viennese art gallery. He remained in Austria for three months, sold a ton of paintings, and became the most famous Puerto Rican in Austria...probably the only Puerto Rican in Austria. Certainly, he is the most famous and successful graduate of Eros.

Jose-Luis is also HIV+ and has been waiting to die for over twenty years. This has very much driven his habits and his art. He goes on and off meds, on and off crack and cocaine and as of today, he is alive and well and still contributing his unique perspective to the world of art. I'm not saying I approve of any of this, I'm just saying it is.

He works in a disturbingly fragile medium, painting on newsprint--primarily The New York Times. He very much enjoys the idea that his paintings will mostly age and crumble leaving little record of his life. I suspect he very much identifies with that concept.

He believes that he cannot paint without binging on sex, intense pain, danger and hard drugs. And because he truly believes this, it is, therefore, quite true. Many artists release the personal pain of tortured lives on canvas, in music and on paper; Jose-Luis is impatient and makes his own pain. To say the least I'm horrified by this, fascinated by this, aroused by this, inspired by this and very much informed by this.

One might be tempted to associate this psychology with the fact that Jose-Luis is HIV positive, but this lifestyle significantly pre-dates the infection and is simply a byproduct of his habits.